Harry Potter and the Cupboard Under the Stairs
by Noxious-Fics
Summary: *POSTED ON HPFF UNDER THE PENNAME BURNING BRIDGES*   Harry Potter remembers the first time he was locked in the cupboard under the stairs. And it was an experience he would carry with him into adulthood.


**For Amalia_Malfoy's Reflections Challenge**

**So. My prompt was Harry Potter. And I kind of apologise that this has a bit of a choppy flow. But reviews would be fantastic! :D**

**I don't own Harry Potter.**

The first time that the Dursleys locked him in the cupboard was when he was five. He had innocuously said the dreaded 'm' word. He had asked his uncle how something worked- he couldn't remember now- and his uncle didn't have an answer. So then Harry had innocently made a childlike assumption.

"So does it work by magic, then?" He remembered how Uncle Vernon's face turned the ugliest shade of purple. He remembered the pain in his right ear as he was dragged inside. Aunt Petunia had merely raised an eyebrow at the scene.

"There's no such thing as magic!" Uncle Vernon had roared. Harry had cringed. Dudley had laughed. "Never say that word. Ever. Again. Do you hear me, boy?" Harry had nodded the best he could, but each movement of his head caused his ear to throb. Uncle Vernon then threw him easily into the small cupboard under the stairs, slammed the door, and locked it. Then he even shut the small window-like bars.

Harry trembled in the dark. Even though Uncle Vernon said magic didn't exist, that didn't stop him from imagining up monsters. Monsters weren't magic, were they? They could still come out of the darkness and bite him, devour him whole. Harry blinked back tears and felt around for the light switch. He found it and clung to it like a lifeline before fiercely tugging it. The light flickered on, bathing the tiny room (if it could even be called a room) with light. Harry breathed a sigh of relief.

Oh how he wished his mum and dad were here. Mum and dad wouldn't treat him like this, would they? No. They'd dote on him, like Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon did for Dudley, wouldn't they? They'd make him treats, buy him gifts, look upon him with pride. They'd proudly show him off as their boy. Their son. Not the nephew who doesn't exist. He wouldn't have giant, baggy hand-me-downs, and he wouldn't be incredibly underweight. He'd go see a doctor and a dentist. That's what parents did, right?

Harry's stomach grumbled. He hadn't eaten since breakfast. The Dursleys insisted on feeding him two meals a day unless he was extra good- and that was almost never. But he still had to make lunch for them. Sometimes, if no one was watching, he'd steal a bite here and there. Cram a piece of ham or a carrot into his mouth and eat it as quickly and quietly as possible. And if he was caught, well, then he wouldn't get dinner.

Harry lay down on his bed, brushing off some of the friendly spiders. He had named them, once. But he was too upset and confused to play with them today. He curled up in bed until the door banged. The hatch opened, and Uncle Vernon's beefy face stared into the room.

"Boy, turn off that light. You're wasting electricity!" Harry reluctantly turned off the light. It was scary, but he'd also get to leave the cupboard faster. Uncle Vernon slammed the grate shut.

For many years afterwards, Harry tried to stay out of trouble as much as possible. He never uttered the dreaded 'm' word. He always avoided small, dark places. Of course, there were the occasional incidents, and he would get locked up again.

The freedom he had in the Wizarding World was always a blessing for him. Here, he didn't have to worry about being confined to a cupboard under the stairs and there were people who loved him. He had Hermione. He had Ron. He had Ginny. He had Neville and Luna and so many other friends and acquaintances he'd met during the war.

And now, as he sat with Ginny in their living room, he fretted. Ginny was holding their first child- James Sirius Potter- and he was terrified. What if he did something wrong? What if he hurt his child as badly as the Dursleys had scarred him? Sure, he and Dudley were sort of friends now, but it didn't heal the past. Ginny smiled at him softly.

"You're not your uncle, Harry, and I'm not your aunt. James will grow up to be a happy child." She leaned up and kissed her husband softly. "So don't worry. You'll be a great dad." Harry had only been able to smile weakly. He was still terrified. Images of his rotten childhood were now on the surface.

"But it's not like I know how to be a parent, Gin," he fretted aloud, "I only know how I was treated by the Dursleys. I don't know how to scold a kid. All I know how to do is scare the hell out of them by locking them in a cupboard. I don't know how to love a kid. All I know how to do is demean them as a freak. Maybe I'm not cut out to be a parent, Gin." Ginny glared at her husband for his use of a swear word in front of their infant child.

"James already has a nursery, remember? And you do know how to love. I know you do. I've seen you with your friends; I've seen you with Teddy. Okay, so maybe he lives with Andromeda most of the time, but he adores you to the point where he changes his appearance to match yours. So, Harry James Potter, don't give me that excuse." Harry smiled sheepishly. "And didn't you always know how you wanted the Dursleys to treat you?" Harry nodded. "Then just remember that." Harry smiled and kissed Ginny on the cheek.

"I'll try."

And he did.


End file.
